


Lost and Found

by softgrungelupin



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Puppies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:34:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softgrungelupin/pseuds/softgrungelupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire finds a stray puppy one night, and decides to take him home. The amis have disagreements on what to name him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

Grantaire is on his way home from the bar, walking slowly with his head ducked to avoid the rain when he hears a pitiful noise. It’s small and sad, and immediately has Grantaire turning towards the small alley it seems to be coming from. The alley is slightly more sheltered from the downpour, and a small noise again comes from a pile of soggy cardboard near the wall. He crouches down in front of the cardboard, cautiously, because you wouldn’t believe what you found in alleyways nowadays, and reaches forward to shift the cardboard. As soon as his hand approaches the cardboard, it _yelps_ , and a small dog’s head pops up. It whines and presses back against the alley wall further, the low crying never stopping.

It takes a few moments of reaching out towards the dog, mumbling quiet soothing things, before it comes forward and nudges Grantaire’s hand. Upon closer inspection, the dog is actually a puppy. A small, cold, soggy puppy taking shelter under some unfortunately damp cardboard. Grantaire gently picks it up, and carefully unzips his coat so that he can tuck the small dogs body closer to his and protect it from the rain.

Grantaire can feel it shivering against his chest, so he turns and begins walking again towards his apartment. He doesn’t really have much experience with puppies, but he’s sure he can find someone to give it a good home. The small dog makes another pitiful whine, and Grantaire picks up the pace.

When he gets home, he’s quick to drop his keys on the kitchen counter and go to the bathroom, where he shuts the door and sets the puppy on the ground. It looks up at him. Grantaire looks back. It whines.

"I hope you don’t belong to anybody," he mutters as he turns on the bath water. “I don’t want to be a puppy thief."

Once there’s a few inches of warm water in the bottom of the tub, Grantaire turns the tap down to a trickle and lifts up the puppy.

"Well. Nice to know you’re a boy."

Grantaire sets him in the tub, and gets some shampoo.

"Now, I don’t know if you’re supposed to shampoo a dog, but you’re filthy and kind of smell like pizza," he says conversationally, if not a little drunkenly, to the puppy.

"so," he continues, “I’m going to use my very own, drugstore brand shampoo to clean you up. Aren’t you special."

The puppy yips, and looks significantly more pleased now that he wasn’t shivering and soaking wet. Well, he’s still soaking wet, Grantaire mentally amends, just not so cold.

Realizing he doesn’t have a cup of any sort to rinse the suds off the dog, Grantaire picks him up gently, and holds him near the trickling tap.

"I didn’t think this through," he tells the puppy, who is happily trying to lick at the moving water, “next time I will definitely have a cup."

Once the puppy is clean, and happier for it, Grantaire grabs a towel and makes quick work of wrapping the puppy up in it. The puppy yips again as Grantaire rubs the towel over his fur briskly.

Grantaire sets him down and turns the tap from bath to shower, so he can take one himself. Thanks to his new friend, Grantaire was also soaking wet, and smelled vaguely of soggy pizza boxes. In the middle of washing his hair, he hears a scuffling noise and peeks around the shower curtain to see the puppy quickly unrolling the toilet paper on the roll, and tearing apart what touched the ground.

This, thought Grantaire, as he blinked the water out of his eyes, was going to be an adventure.

——————————-

The next day's meeting was later than usually, due to trying to accommodate everyone’s schedules, and so the Musain was fairly empty, save for the amis. Grantaire was near the back, as per usual, and quiet. Which was unusual. In fact, he had only commented on Enjolras’ speech once the whole night. Even then, it was a small, offhanded comment that Enjolras didn’t bother responding to past an unimpressed glare. Now, however, he was getting worked up, insisting to his friends that if they could appeal to the masses, the good in everyone, they would be able to bring more people to the next rally and make more of a change. Everyone, he insisted, wanted to live in a better world, and everyone was able to make that happen. He paused, just for a moment. Combferre glanced at Enjolras; who has looking perplexed, at Grantaire. In fact, most of his friends were looking at Grantaire. There was a vaguely tense feeling of waiting in the air. By now, Grantaire usually would have said something, challenged Enjolras’ words, laughed quietly, _something_.

And yet, he was silent. In fact everyone was silent. Which Grantaire picked up on, after he looked up from his lap to find everyone staring at him.

"Um,"

"What’s wrong with you tonight?" Courfeyrac said, turning his chair around so he could stare at Grantaire more closely. “Feeling okay? Suddenly more optimistic?"

Grantaire raised his eyebrows. “Not particularly?"

"Well you’ve been suspiciously qui- _what the hell is that?_ " Courfeyrac squealed, as Grantaire’s jacket suddenly moved.

The puppy wiggled for a second, then stuck it’s head up above the zipper. The amis stared. The puppy stared back.

"Oh Grantaire, he’s _beautiful_!" Jehan exclaimed, quickly shoving past Courfeyrac to sit in the chair next to Grantaire’s. “Can I hold him?"

Grantaire laughs, and deposits the very wiggly puppy into Jehan’s arms. As Jehan coos and gasps at the small dog, Joly’s strained voice comes from the other side of the room.

"Grantaire," says Joly, from where his face is muffled in Bossuet’s scarf. “I’m allergic to dogs. Why do you have a dog." Joly’s eyes narrow. “Why do you have a dog _here_? This is a cafe, that’s a violation of health codes."

Courfeyrac, who had made his way to Jehan and was also trying to cuddle the puppy, responded. “Don’t worry Joly, he’s not in the back. It’s not like he’s anywhere near the food. Like anyone would even mind, _look at him_!"

Combferre chuckles quietly. Grantaire looks over at Enjolras, who looks as if he doesn’t quite know how to handle all his attention being given to a small animal. Enjolras caught his eyes, and Grantaire slipped lower in his seat.

"Since when," Enjolras faltered. “since when do you even have a dog?"

Grantaire looked back to the puppy, who was happily licking Jehan’s chin, and shrugged. “I found him in the rain last night, he didn’t have a home."

"Oh, but he’s just a baby." Jehan whispered, hugging the dog to his chest.

("A stray? He brought home a stray? He could have rabies-," “Calm down, Joly.")

"What’s his name?"

Grantaire looked at the puppy, and Jehan, who looked pleased as punch to have the small dog covering his chin in kisses.

"I haven’t named him anything yet. I wasn’t planning on keeping him."

Jehan hugged the puppy closer. “You can’t get rid of him!"

Courfeyrac put his hand on his chest, affronted. “You bring this dog into our cafe? And then say you’re going to take him away from us? The nerve!"

Grantaire reached for his beer. “Actually, I just brought him with me so he wouldn’t trash my apartment."

"Your apartment’s already trashed, R."

"Shut up, Bahorel."

"But really, what are you naming him?" Jehan insisted. “I think you should name him Théophile."

"No, no," Courf interjected, “let’s name him Sparta."

"Gladiator!" called out Bahorel.

"Potentially diseased."

"Joly, no. What about Spot?"

At that one, Enjolras spoke.

"He doesn’t even have spots, Bossuet."

Grantaire held his beer closer to his chest. “Who said any of you get to name him? He’s my puppy."

"I thought you weren’t keeping him." said Combferre dryly, a small smile on his lips.

Grantaire grimaced, and finished his beer.

"You know, I think Courfeyrac is a great name. Definitely a contender for the puppy naming competition."

"Shut the hell up, Courf."

Placing his empty bottle on the table, Grantaire turned to retrieve the puppy from Jehan’s arms. Jehan’s slightly enraptured features turned sad as the puppy left his arms. Grantaire let the puppy snuggle back under his jacket, and stood up.

"Well, this has been a particularly informative meeting-"

"You didn’t even say anything the entire time, Grantaire," interrupted Enjolras.

Grantaire looked at his feet, then back to Enjolras, and grinned. “Maybe I was listening instead."

Enjolras raised his eyebrows skeptically, which was ridiculous, because if he’s skeptical of the fact that Grantaire spends every moment in his presence simply watching him _exist_ , then Enjolras didn’t know Grantaire well at all.

Grantaire held Enjolras’ eyes a beat too long, and the puppy yipped. Clearing his throat, Grantaire adjusted the puppy in his jacket, and made his way towards the cafe doors.

"I’ve got to pick up some things for  the puppy before I go home, so I’ll talk to you guys later."

Before the cafe doors could shut behind him, Grantaire heard Courfeyrac calling “Buy him a collar that says Victor!", and Jehan’s admonishing, “No, Théophile is much prettier."

The doors to the Musain shut, and Grantaire laughed under his breath. The puppy wiggled around as he walked, and popped his head out again. Grantaire grinned down at him.

"How do you feel about the name Ganymedes?"


End file.
